I’ve been going-on-37 for about as long as I can remember. Instead of one of those “youthful-inner-child” spirit animals that make you a hoot at parties, I got landed with an inner-old-lady who enjoys tea, and crochet, and classic literature who also sometimes makes me use phrases like “hoot at parties.”
This inner-old-self-phenomena made for a really strange kid. Young Robin was weird. I crocheted on the regular. I entered (and won once!) adult-level poetry contests. My favorite book was (is) Gone with the Wind. I had a moderate-to-concerning obsession with TLC & HGTV interior design programs. I also l o v e d TV Land. One Saturday, my mom awoke to find me writing a research paper on Abraham Lincoln. On my own accord. For no reason at all except to compile all of the research I had been doing that week “for fun.” I think I was ten.
And on brand, one of my favorite places on the planet earth was Barnes and Noble. Near the greeting card section, B&N stocked home accessories, completely swooning my tiny old lady heart.
If you haven’t had enough Robin Fun Facts today, here’s your bonus: I have also been obsessed with monkeys since from birth. And during one thrilling B&N adventure, Little old-lady-hearted, monkey-obsessed, design-on-the-brain Robin discovered heavy, ridiculously overpriced brass monkey bookends in a glass case. The end. all. of cool bookends. Because bookends, duh, were really cool.
I begged and begged my mother for them. And like a good, sane mother, who clearly thought she was witnessing a fleeting “I see it and want it and will forget about it in two days” pleading fit, said, “Your birthday is coming up. If you still want them this badly then, you can use your birthday money for them.” And we left, bookendless and broken hearted.
So for my ninth birthday, I used every last dollar I was gifted + every cent I saved doing chores for over a month to purchase heavy, overpriced brass monkey bookends.
In their shining place of decorative glory on my bedroom dresser, my best friend came over that day, took one look at them, and curtly informed me it looked like they were sitting on the toilet. In my bliss, I did not care.
And while my tastes have changed ever so slightly over 16 years, and my living room isn’t littered with stuffed monkeys and boy band posters, the bookends always find a home.
I’m not much for whims, but on a recent Half Price Books excursion, I suggested we had to figure out our book situation. We had both agreed we really wanted a bookcase for ease of access + home aesthetics.
One Target Detour was all it took, and Austin spotted a piece that has really tied our duplex living space together. It’s felt like the missing piece we didn’t know the space was missing, and is one of my favorite additions to our new(ish) home. We don’t have the square footage to pull all of our books out and not suffocate, but it’s felt like a good start + freed up a box space in the closet + gave the monkeys a proper home.
I’ts technically a console table that I can’t recommend higher for a functional pop of character in a small space.